Long Ago
by jadeacl
Summary: This is the first in a trilogy of series. Ever wondered how Dawson, Joey and Pacey met as kids? This series traces the beginnings of newfound friendship and changes made to old ones. Life will never be the same...
1. When Pacey Met Joey

**When Pacey Met Joey**   
**Chapter One  
  
By Jade  
  
**

**Disclaimer****: The characters of _Dawson's Creek _do not belong to me. That's it, I guess.   
  
Summary: How the gang might have met years ago as kids.   
  
Category: Pacey and Joey romance. You'll see it eventually.   
  
Author's Note: This time round, I'm going to attribute my inspiration to great romance novelists - Judith McNaught, Barbara Freethy, Barbara Boswell, Jude Deveraux, Jill Barnett, Johanna Lindsey. Their stories have got me thinking up feasible plots every single minute of the day and it's pretty worthwhile. Pacey and Joey deserve the best storyline I can come up with.   
  
**

**Author's Note (in 2003): This series was started way back in 1999, I think. Before we knew much about the intricate details of the family backgrounds of Pacey and Joey, so there might be some discrepancies. Like the name of Joey's mother, etc... One day I will get around to editing the necessary.  **

* * *

**Prologue**

_  
__Capeside, Massachusetts   
2001  
  
_The sky was a mass of different colors. It was a beautiful summer evening.  
  
She saw him, hands in his pockets, looking out to the water.   
  
As she gazed at his frame by the railings, all the memories, bad and good, came flooding back.   
  
She crossed her arms and could not help but smile, in spite of her turmoil.  
  
If he turns back before the boat crosses the line, I'll tell him, she decided.   
  
She hadn't even realized she had been holding her breath until she slowly expelled it.   
  
The boat had crossed. He hadn't looked back.   
  
She took one last look at him. And then she walked away.

* * *

_Capeside, Massachusetts   
1992  
  
_"Doug, have you seen your brother?" 

Douglas Witter looked up from a box of compact discs that he was sorting out and saw his mother standing in the doorway. 

"Have you seen Pacey?" she repeated. 

"Who cares?" he replied and returned to his task. "I've got better things to do than take notice of his whereabouts." He looked up to meet his mother's disapproving gaze and reluctantly divulged what little information he knew. 

"He said something about exploring the place." 

"It's getting dark." Margaret Witter walked towards the window and look out anxiously. "I'm worried." 

Shrugging, Doug told his mother, "He can take care of himself." 

Margaret did not respond and did not seem to have heard a word as she continued to stare out the window. 

"Dad was screaming his head off at him again. Nothing new really. He'll be back soon enough." 

"I hope you're right," she sighed. 

***** 

Down at a quiet spot by the creek, Josephine Potter found herself on a bench, staring into space as she hugged her knees to her chest. Her profile showed a sadness that was unusual for a nine-year old child. At that moment, her tired eyes revealed a maturity that seemed too far beyond her years. 

She was so deep in thought, she did not hear footsteps approaching. Someone came up from behind her and tapped her on the shoulder. 

She jumped in surprise and swiftly turned around. "You scared the hell out of me!" she shouted. "Who are you?" she demanded to know. 

"Hey, no need to bite my head off." The voice was accompanied by a movement in the darkening surroundings as the stranger sat himself beside her on the bench. "I didn't mean to scare you. Sticking out a hand, he said, "The name's Pacey. I'm new around here." 

Joey looked into a pair of mischievous blue eyes and into the face of a boy no older than herself. He had dark hair and was dressed in jeans and an Aerosmith T-shirt. 

She ignored his friendly gesture and made a move to start the walk back. He followed her. 

"Hey, what's with you?" 

She walked faster. He had no problem keeping up with her speed and was beside her in one easy stride. Joey was tall for her age but this guy was going to tower over her by at least four inches in the future. Not that she cared. 

"It's getting late. I'll walk with you." 

"No, thanks. I can manage," she replied rudely. 

He tried to stop her by standing in front of her but she just walked around him. "Isn't it a bit premature to judge me? Or do you treat everyone like that?" he said to the back of her head. She did not turn around. 

"Fine," he said. 

Joey heard him retreating and paused in her step for a moment. She sneaked a glance behind her and saw no one. Good riddance, she thought. She had never been in a worse mood. She felt a twinge of guilt for snapping at the boy but what's done was done. 

About 50 yards from the house, a shadow from the corner leading to a path collided right into her. She gave a loud shriek as they both hit the ground. 

"Oh damn! I recognize that voice." 

Joey squinted in the dark and caught sight of a blue sneaker. Then the voice spoke again. 

"Miss Grumpy, is that you?" 

It dawned on her. 

"Why the hell are you following me?" 

"I wasn't following you and why the hell do you keep cursing?" 

She got to her feet and dusted the gravel off her clothes. He stood up, a bit more gingerly as he favored his left arm and muttered an obscenity (that any adult wouldn't have condoned, really) under his breath. 

"Now, look who's cursing," she retorted sarcastically. Without waiting for an answer, she made her way to the nearest house and rang the doorbell. 

"Joey, where have you been? Your mother called-" The woman in her mid-30s started to ask as the latter side-stepped her into the house. "Who's your friend?" 

The boy made his way up to the porch. "Pacey Witter, ma'am. I just moved here." 

Joey popped her head right back. "Witter? Your father is the new town sheriff?" 

His disarming grin faltered for a brief second. The moment had passed so quickly, Joey thought she had imagined it. 

"Yes, I am his son." He smiled an all too charming smile. Joey rolled her eyes heavenward. 

"And I'm Gail Leery. Joey here, goes to school with my son, Dawson." Her attention was momentarily diverted by the sight of his left elbow. "You're bleeding. We'd better get that cleaned up." 

Pacey waved it off politely. "It's no problem, Mrs. Leery ." 

"I'd better take a look at it, " she gestured. "Dawson isn't home at the moment. He's out looking for her," she said as she pointedly regarded Joey who was still peering around the door. 

Joey had an expressive face that never failed to give away her true emotions, no matter how hard she tried. This time was no exception. Guilt was written all over her face. 

"Are you sure you're okay?" she asked in a softer but still distant tone. 

Pacey looked her in the eye. "I'd love to make you feel bad for a long time, but unfortunately I'm sure I'll be fine." He caught her by surprise again when he smiled sincerely albeit briefly. "I'm really all right, Mrs. Leery. I should get back home." 

"Okay, but be careful. We'll see you around then, Pacey." 

"Oh you bet." 

Joey knew it was a promise directed to her. 

* * *

"So what does he look like?" 

"I can't hear you!" 

"This Pacey guy! What does he look like?" 

Dawson squinted against the sun as he stepped onto the first few rungs of the new ladder that he and his father had just fixed against the side of the house. 

"I don't know. What do you mean?" she shouted from her position at Dawson's bedroom window. 

"I mean exactly what I said. What does _he _look like?" He jumped on the ladder to make certain it was secure and then motioned for her to come down. "Let's hope this works. Mom loves you like a daughter but you're driving her nuts by ringing on the doorbell every twenty minutes." 

Joey crawled out the window, rear end first. As she made her way down, she was muttering more to herself than answering the question. 

"He's all right, I suppose. Tall, brown hair, blue eyes. You know, typical. Pretty annoying personality as well." 

Dawson noted the tone of her voice. "Is there anyone our age, besides me of course, that you actually _can_ stand?" 

She jumped off the last rung onto the grass and faced him, hands on hips and replied indignantly, "I like people." 

"Yeah, right." 

* * *

Pacey dreaded first days at schools. It always made him feel more out of place than he already felt. 

He was about to head for his next class when he spotted her. He walked over and leaned against the locker next to hers. "Hey, Miss Grumpy." 

She glanced at him and then looked back into her locker. 

"Fine, ignore me," he said. 

From Joey's other side, a blond head popped out. "Monday's not her day." The boy ignored her killer stare and reached over to shake Pacey's hand. "Hi, I'm Dawson." 

"Pacey." 

"My mother's told me about you. How's the elbow?" 

Pacey touched the band aid on his wound in reflex. "Just a scratch," he shrugged off. "I'll live." 

Joey closed her locker with a bang and addressed Dawson directly, still paying no attention to the other boy. "We should go." 

"Hey, I've got an idea. Why don't you join us in the cafeteria later, Pacey?" Dawson ignored Joey's stare once again. "It's liver day." 

Pacey caught sight of the irritation on Joey's face and grinned widely. "Delighted to," he accepted. 

***** 

He hated the fear that engulfed him as he entered the cafeteria. What if they aren't there, he thought. What if they forgot? 

All his doubts dispersed as he saw Dawson Leery waving at him from his table. He returned the gesture and let out a breath he had been holding. He was more relieved than he cared to admit. 

He got a tray and waited in line. As he tapped his fingers against the counter and half-watched the boy in front of him negotiate his plate of liver for two burgers, he found his gaze drifting toward the brunette beside Dawson. 

Unlike most of the girls in school who wore skirts, Joey was dressed in baggy overalls. Her shoulder-length hair was tied up in a ponytail and much of it was covered with a cap worn backwards. His sisters would freak out if they ever caught sight of her sense of fashion. 

He, on the other hand, saw her as distinct from the crowd. 

"So, Joey. What exactly is your full name?" he asked abruptly as he settled himself down at their table. 

She was about to pop a fry into a mouth when he surprised her with his question. "It's none of your business." The tone of her voice reflected her infuriation. 

"It's Josephine," Dawson quipped. 

She swung her head toward her best friend. "You say another word," she warned, "and I'm out of here." 

He raised his arms in surrender. "Okay, alright." 

"So, Josep-" Pacey started. 

"Don't call me that!" She grunted in irritation and then stood up and walked out, with her tray, leaving the two boys staring after her. 

Pacey leaned back in his chair. "What was _that_ all about?" 

Dawson shrugged in response. "You have to know Joey. She's a great friend but she's got a terrible temper sometimes. Once she gets to know you, you guys will get along fine." 

"I'm not so sure about that." 

***** 

As she sat outside the school building alone, she wondered herself, what was up with her. She had uncharacteristically been snapping at everyone in sight. Her mother, Bessie, Dawson...and now, the new kid on the block? 

Pacey Witter. What sort of a name is that anyway? Joey rolled her eyes as she answered her own question. "I'm one to talk," she mumbled. 

She realized that he had been unfairly made to bear the brunt of her recent temper, which was fueled by the fact that no one in her family wanted to talk about anything. Her mother was acting strange, her sister pre-occupied with high school and boys and her father, well, he was never around. Their family was falling apart and she seemed to be the only one who cared enough to do something about it. Maybe it would be easier if she just pretended everything was all right. 

* * *

"Gee, a toothbrush could have shown more emotion," he uttered. 

"Pacey, don't be rude." 

He had been lying on his bed, hands behind his head and staring into space when his mother had knocked on his door. 

He sat up in anger. "It's my first day at a new school and he doesn't ask me how my day was, did I make any friends, do I hate my teachers...something, anything!" 

"Sweetie-" 

"Mom, I don't want to deal with this anymore." He immediately regretted the words as soon as they were out of his mouth as he watched his mother's expression change to an all-too familiar one. 

"Pacey," she said, sitting herself beside him on the bed and cupped his face in her hands. "I'm so sorry." Her voice quivered. "For everything." 

Each time they had a conversation like that, his mother got more and more emotional and what she said became more and more puzzling. Pacey, by this time, had memorized the haunting look in her eyes whenever they broached the subject of John Witter. He had been seven when he had noticed a change in his father's attitude toward him. When he asked his mother about it, she had avoided his gaze altogether and swiftly changed the subject. Over the years, he had got nowhere close to the bottom of the matter. Although he wanted to know badly enough, it wasn't worth upsetting his mother over. He was certain she would tell him when she was ready to tell him. 

He leaned forward to hug her. "Mom, please don't get sappy on me." 

***** 

"Bessie, Joey, would you mind coming downstairs for a moment?" 

Sarah Potter stood in the doorway of the girls' bedroom for a second before turning away and heading downstairs. 

"Uh oh," Bessie said, from her position by the dresser and looking toward Joey, who was doing her homework on her bed. "Sounds like she wants to talk." 

Joey slapped her book shut. "Maybe now we'll know what's been bothering her." 

***** 

"I don't understand, Pacey. You've always done fairly okay in school but for the past year, your grades have been dropping and frankly, it's starting to scare me." 

"Mom, please." Pacey was at his study desk, trying to make sense of his homework, while he tried his best to evade his mother's inevitable question. 

"Why is that?" 

Sometimes he wished that he would just harden his heart and let her cry during their routine conversation just so she wouldn't stop and turn into a nagging parent. It sounded stupid but he was, after all, only nine years old and that meant he didn't always make sense. 

"I don't know. Maybe I'm just trying to make what Dad says about me a reality," he said, trying to sound nonchalant. 

"Sweetie-" 

"Mom, I'm trying to do my Math." 

***** 

"Wh-what are you saying?" 

Joey remained silent as her sister shot their mother an accusing look. 

"The cancer's gone," Sarah calmly replied. 

Bessie was angry now. "That's _not _the point. You were sick and you didn't tell us! What if you hadn't got better? Would you only have told us when you were lying in hospital dying?" 

Sarah reached for her hand but she stepped aside and ran upstairs, slamming the bedroom door shut. The former was clearly distressed as she looked to her younger daughter for comfort and assurance. 

"Joey?" 

Joey looked up from her hands and her face was expressionless. "Are you sure it's gone?" she asked in a steady voice. One would have assumed that she was calm if they hadn't noticed she was playing with her fingers or had heard her heart racing so fast she thought it was going to jump right out of her chest. 

"They removed the lump from my breast during the operation." Sarah moved to sit beside her daughter on the couch and took her hand. "I'm fine now. I promise." 

"If you say so." 

* * *

_Please send all comments and suggestions to: _pacey@hockeymail.com


	2. Just One of the Guys

**Just One of The Guys  
ChapterTwo**

**By Jade**

**  
****Disclaimer****: I _wish _Pacey belonged to me. **

**Author's Note****: As usual, I have and will be incorporating scenes and dialogue inspired from various TV dramas and movies. Cheers to anyone who can guess what these are throughout the series. **

**

* * *

**

"Your room's, erm, interesting." 

"If it seems dull to you, you can just say it, you know." 

"I'm serious Dawson. I've never met anyone who liked E.T. that much." 

Dawson looked at his newfound friend who was still inspecting his room from top to bottom. Pacey seemed almost perplexed as he examined the posters on the wall at close range. 

He turned his head back. "How about music? You like music?" 

"I played the piano till I stopped lessons last year." 

Pacey stared blankly at Dawson. "I meant pop, rock, metal, that sort of thing," he added, after a moment's pause. 

"Ohh." 

"You heard of Milli Vanilli?" 

Dawson shook his head. 

Pacey proceeded to sing a line and moved his head to the beat. "Blame it on the rain," he screeched. 

Still, Dawson shook his head. 

"Really?" Pacey was amazed. "You should hear them. It sounds so effortless, it's like they're not even singing." He looked at his friend in sympathy and patted him on the shoulder. "It's cool, man. I'll show you the ropes." 

"You're not showing him anything," a voice quipped from the window. Joey's head popped out of nowhere as she made her entrance into her best friend's room. 

Pacey raised an eyebrow. "Ever heard of a door?" 

"Ever heard of minding your own business?" she retorted. 

Dawson rolled his eyes and fell back on his bed. "Geez," he muttered, "Sorry if I'm in the way." 

"Hey, _she_ started it!" 

"Hey, _he_ started it!" 

Both of them shouted at the same time. They continued to glare at each other until Dawson interrupted. 

"Alright, that's enough! I say we call it a truce. I don't want blood all over my room." He put one shoulder around Pacey's and the other, Joey's and ushered them out the door. "Mom made casserole for lunch. Could we try to eat in peace?" 

* * *

"Another week of school. How tragic." 

"I'm sorry this isn't fascinating enough for you," Joey replied sarcastically. 

Pacey was about to argue back when something behind her captured his attention. His jaw dropped. 

Dawson followed his gaze to see what had caught his eye and nodded approvingly. 

Joey looked from Dawson to Pacey and then back again. Slowly, she turned around. 

"Kristy Livingstone," she mumbled. "Surprise, surprise." 

Pacey finally found his voice. "She's hot!" 

"She's a sixth-grader, man. Way out of our league!" Dawson volunteered. 

"I could get her if I wanted to." 

Joey snickered. "Yeah, right." 

The bell rang. The two boys remained staring. Joey got fed up as they both made no move to get to class. 

"Didn't anyone teach you to breathe with your mouth closed?" she asked Pacey. He let his jaw drop further on purpose and ignored her. 

Turning to Dawson, who was just as mesmerized, she hit him on the chest with the back of her hand. He yelped but didn't move from his position. 

Annoyed, she walked off on her own. 

* * *

"How's school coming along?" 

"Just fine, Mom. The teachers haven't branded me a failure yet so that's a good sign. Then again, it's still early in the term." 

"Stop that talk, will you?" Margaret Witter chided. 

He shrugged. 

"How about Dawson and that girl? Josephine, is it?" she asked as she chopped mushrooms into slices and put them into the salad bowl with the green vegetables. "You guys getting along?" 

"It's Joey, Mom." He opened the refrigerator. "It's weird. Dawson and I, we don't really like the same things but we have fun hanging out together." 

He took out bread spread, cheese and ham and got ready to make himself a snack when his mother smacked his hand. "You're going to spoil your dinner." Reluctantly, he put them back. 

"How about Joey?" 

"Ha!" He rolled his eyes. "She's mean and she doesn't like me very much. In fact, not at all." 

"You're exaggerating." 

"No, I'm not." He sneaked a bag of potato chips behind his back as he walked toward the living room. "But she's not as hard to figure out as she thinks she is," he added, with a suspicious gleam in his eye as he started to walk out of the kitchen and make his way upstairs. 

She stopped him with her next words. "Neither are you. Now hand over those chips." 

"Mom!" he complained as he dutifully did so. 

***** 

"Witter is a pain in the ass!" 

"Josephine!" Sarah called out to her daughter from the bottom of the stairway as the latter stormed into her room. 

Bessie giggled. "Mom, it's not like she never talks like that." 

"She's nine years old!" 

"I'm almost ten!" Joey shouted from upstairs. 

"She's mature for her age. We can deal with it." Bessie defended her sister. 

Their smiling faces met. Sarah didn't want to say a word, for fear of spoiling the moment. This was the first time in days that her eldest daughter had spoken more than a sentence to her. 

Bessie stepped forward and put her hand over her mother's on the banister. "A lot will be changing in this house. We'll learn to deal with it. We will." And then she hugged her. 

* * *

Pacey had dumped his books into his locker when he saw Dawson coming toward him. "Hey du-", he started to say when the latter grabbed his arm and pulled him by it into a corner. 

"Whoa, hold it! What's up?" 

Dawson got straight to the point. "It's been five weeks. You and Joey _need_ to like each other." He measured a small gap between his thumb and his forefinger. "At least this much." 

"Man, you're asking _too_ much," Pacey grumbled. 

"I don't care! Pretend if you have to, just stop fighting in front of me!" 

This was the first time Pacey had seen Dawson so agitated. 

"Come on, man. I want the three of us to be friends. Don't make me choose between you and Joey." 

Pacey sighed. "Okay, I'll try." 

Dawson smiled and hit lightly him on the shoulder. 

But don't expect a miracle," he hastily added. 

***** 

"Joey!" He ran across the field as he caught sight of his target. "Wait up!" 

When he caught up with her, she barely glanced at him before she dismissed him. "What do you want, Witter?" 

"You know what? You can call me Pacey." 

Once again, he found himself talking to the back of her head. Unable to resist, he made a face and stuck out his tongue at her. 

She chose that moment to turn back. 

Instantly, he rolled his tongue around, as if he had been licking his lips. "Hmmm, the ice-cream man was right. That chocolate one is delicious." 

Joey would have laughed out loud but she didn't want to give him the satisfaction. Her face was hurting from trying not to smile as she took in his ridiculous expression and even more pathetic lie. 

"What do you want?" 

"Look, I promised Dawson to try to work this out with you. Could we just talk?" 

She watched him for a sign, any sign that he was pulling her leg. Surprisingly, he seemed serious enough. 

"Okay," she finally agreed. 

* * *

They found themselves sitting by the creek that Joey had to cross everyday, in order to get to school or Dawson's house and then back home afterward. 

Pacey broke the silence first. 

"This all started when I bumped into you at the park the first time. I obviously caught you at a bad time." 

She raised a brow but remained quiet. 

"For that, I apologize because I must have interrupted, geez, I hate to sound like my mother," he said as he made a face, "a vulnerable moment." 

Joey started to stand up. "This is going nowhere. Le-" 

Pacey pulled her back down to his level. "You promised me five minutes, so listen!" 

She pulled her arm free from his grip. 

"Just because we're kids doesn't mean we have to behave like one of them now." Before she could get another word in, he continued, "Joey Potter, you're easier to read than a book. You hate to show your feelings but your eyes give away everything and right now, they tell me you want to kill me." 

"You think?" Her question was dripping with sarcasm and threat. 

"You hate it that I walked in on your sad moment. But you know what, there are other times to feel sorry for yourself. Right now, let's talk about Dawson." 

Joey's eyes were blazing with anger and a touch of childish defiance. 

"I'm not stupid, you know." 

He fully and accurately anticipated the you-could-have-fooled-me look that she proceeded to give him. 

"If Dawson had to decide who he should remain friends with, of course it's going to be with you." 

Joey started to fidget uneasily. She never expected to feel sorry for Pacey. 

"You guys have been best friends for years. How can I compete with that?" 

In order to quash her feelings of sympathy, she fired a series of questions. "Why do you like hanging out with Dawson anyway? You two have nothing in common! What are you up to?" Then a thought dawned on her. "Are you doing this just to get back at me?" 

"Please!" He looked at her as if she had gone mad. "Don't flatter yourself. I've got better things to do." 

"Then why?" she demanded to know. 

Pacey took a deep breath. "It will take me years to explain my family to you. One thing I can tell you for sure is that nothing remains the same for very long in the Witter household. I don't know if this makes sense but being friends with Dawson helps me get up every morning and knowing it's not such a waste of time to go to school, play ball, whatever. I know he's different from me but maybe that's what I need. A complete opposite to provide a sense of..." 

"Consistency," she quipped. 

"You know what I mean then?" 

Strangely enough, she did. Her friendship with Dawson had helped her more times than she cared to remember. "Dawson's a constant." 

Pacey nodded. "Exactly." 

There was another bout of silence between them. 

This time, Joey spoke first. "My home isn't exactly home sweet home either." 

The corner of Pacey's mouth tilted. "Are you saying what I think you're saying?" 

She looked at him. "We both don't want to hurt him and we both want to keep his friendship. The only way to do that is to call a truce." 

"I agree." 

She reluctantly took the handshake he offered in return. "You know," he began to say. "You could be nice to me even if Dawson isn't around to see it." 

She squeezed his hand with all her might. "Don't push your luck." 

"Alright!" he yelped in pain. 

* * *

She was about to bite into her lunch when he came up from behind her and put an arm around her shoulder. 

"Isn't that the most beautiful thing you've ever seen?" 

She looked to her left and watched his fingers drumming against her shoulder. "Get your arm off me before I bite your hand and spoil my lunch." 

He moved his hand away but his concentration didn't falter one bit. "Your attitude toward me improves with each month," he mumbled. 

Joey didn't even have to guess who that look in his eyes was for. "Kristy Livingstone is a bimbo. She's going to grow up to be a cheerleader who will date the football team's star quarterback or the basketball team captain, neither of which will be you. So please, stop drooling on me and let me eat in peace." 

"Party pooper." 

"I agreed to be nice but I never promised to hide the truth from you." 

Pacey mimicked the movement of her mouth as she spoke the words. 

"Geez, thanks," he expressed with faked gratitude. 

"You're welcome," she replied with the same amount of sincerity. 

"Yo! Dawson!" Pacey shouted at the figure that was approaching them. Joey grabbed the chance to look away and sneak a grin. Pacey could easily have her rolling on the grass in laughter if she let him. Naturally, that wasn't going to happen anytime soon. She was determined to see through it that he didn't know his jokes and expressions cracked her up. 

"What's up?" Dawson asked, as he settled himself on the grass beside them. 

"Nothing much. Just a daily reminder of what Pacey _isn't_ going to get." Joey cut in, before the latter could get a word out. 

"Dude, haven't you given up yet?" 

Pacey pointed to himself. "Me, give up so easily? You must have me mixed up with somebody else." 

"Yeah, a moron," Joey contributed. 

"Hey, Missy!" 

Dawson moved to take up his usual position between them before any physical sparring could take place. "That's enough for today, kids." 

_

* * *

_

_  
Please send all comments and suggestions to:pacey@hockeymail.com_


	3. In the Neighborhood

**In The Neighborhood**  
**Chapter Three**

**By Jade**

**Disclaimer****: I had no part in the creation of _Dawson's Creek_ and its characters. **

**Author's Note****: I have no intention of rewriting Kevin Williamson but I just love Pacey and Joey as a couple too much to follow the present storyline to exact detail so be prepared for discrepancies. **

**

* * *

**

_Capeside, Massachusetts  
1996_

Joey had the strangest gut feeling as she trekked across the school compound to get to her next class. She didn't feel physically sick but nevertheless, a wave of uneasiness was threatening to ruin her day. 

She heard loud cheers as she neared the classroom. Stepping in, she was greeted with the familiar sight of Pacey clowning around and telling jokes at the teacher's desk before Mr. Carpenter's arrival. 

"No wonder I feel sick," she muttered under her breath. 

Pacey saw her approaching and followed at her heels to the back of the classroom, where she settled into her usual seat. 

"Jo-ey! The love of my life!" 

"Not now, Pacey." 

Her tone was one of grouchiness as usual but something wasn't quite right with the picture. Pacey noticed she looked especially troubled today but before he could voice his thought, Mr. Carpenter appeared in time to spoil yet another Friday afternoon and he hurried to take his seat before he received another talking-to that he really wasn't in the mood for. 

* * *

"Hey Dawson!" 

Dawson slowed down as he waited for his friend to catch up. "What's up?" he asked when the latter did. 

Pacey took a moment to catch his breath before speaking. "I've tried to mind my business as long as I could but something is bothering Joey." 

"She hasn't said anything. You're probably just being paranoid." 

"Look, it's not like I care but when she no longer fights back when I annoy her, it's really no fun for me at all." 

Dawson rolled his eyes. "You would think I'd be used to this by now," he said as he made a stop at his locker before he headed home. 

"Joey should be flattered. I count on her quarrelsome nature to get me through school every single day. It's the only thing to look forward to," he further said as he leaned against the lockers beside Dawson's. "If her mood suffers, _I_ suffer." 

Dawson shut his locker. His voice was serious as he spoke. "Maybe you should spend less time arguing with her and more time on your work." Slinging his backpack on his shoulder, he regarded his other best friend in concern. "I hear you've got another appointment to see the school counselor." 

Pacey shrugged it off with a dismissive "Oh that!" and a snort. 

"Look, I have to get home early but I'll talk to Joey later." He was halfway across the hall before he shouted back, "Don't go fighting with her again. Be good!" 

"Yeah!" 

When Dawson was out of sight, Pacey's expression, in an instant, switched from a nonchalant grin to a more solemn and thoughtful one. 

* * *

Joey hesitated for a second as she got out of the boat and picked up her books. She had seen Sarah on the front porch, painting. By deliberately slowing down her steps, she was also trying to do the same to asking the inevitable question that had been nagging at her all day. 

"Joey, what do you think of it?" Sarah asked, proudly standing aside to allow her daughter a closer look at her latest project. 

"It looks great, Mom." 

"You sure? You don't think the colors are too, I don't know, bright?" 

"Mom, who am I to judge? You're a fabulous artist." 

She started to notice Joey's distraction from their present conversation. "All right, something's wrong," she said, as she gently guided the latter by the shoulders to the swing where they both sat. "So tell me." 

Joey looked her right in the eye. "Is everything okay?" 

Sarah couldn't hide her puzzlement. "What do you mean?" 

"Is _anything_ wrong?" 

"Honey, you're being really vague here." 

Joey took a deep breath. "I mean, are you sick again?" 

She was genuinely caught by surprise. "The cancer?" she asked to make sure it was what they were talking about. 

Joey nodded. 

"No," Sarah answered. "I'm fine. I just went for a check-up last week and the doctor gave me an all-clear." 

She hadn't realized that she had been fiddling with her necklace until her mother reached out to take her hand. 

"It's the truth." 

She nodded again. "I was just being paranoid," she added. "It's nothing." 

"Okay, but if there's anything, anything at all, you come and talk to me." 

Joey stood up in silence and walked toward the front door. 

"Are we okay?" Sarah questioned. 

Joey managed a weak smile. "We're okay, Mom." 

* * *

"I wonder what Brad's planning this year! I'm so excited!" 

Squeals from the next room were the first sounds he heard that morning. He opened one eye slowly, took one look at his clock radio and then opened the other eye in surprise. He had woke up later than he expected. 

As he drifted between the urge to keep his eyes closed and waste the rest of the day away and the need to get up before his father or Doug came to throw him off the bed, his sisters continued to terrorize his peace with their constant yelling. 

"Mom, I need that skirt ironed! I'm meeting Brad in 20 minutes!" 

He heard his mother's voice and then more yelling, followed by music playing from the stereo. He figured his decision had already been made for him; he wasn't going to be able to sleep in this racket anyway. 

"4 days to V-day. He's got plenty of time to come up with something special," quipped his 15-year old sister, Sharon. 

He heard drawers opening and closing and then his other sister, Megan's, voice in a threatening tone, "Oh, he'd better." 

He snorted and then rolled his eyes. Burrowing himself under his pillow, he couldn't believe how shallow and narrow-minded his sisters sounded and acted. All they cared about were their looks, boys and cheerleading practice. 

"Hey punk! Get out of bed!" 

Someone stole his pillow from right off his head and hit him with it. 

"Morning, Sis," he mumbled, without opening his eyes. 

"Morning? It's almost noon." 

His eyelids fluttered open and he found himself looking into eyes the same color as his. He managed a crooked grin as he held onto his eldest and favorite sister's hand. "Love you too," he replied and then he snatched the pillow back and put it back over his head. 

Ashley Witter couldn't help smiling at her brother. He was too charming for a 13-year old - way too charming. If he had been any older, she was pretty sure some of her girlfriends would find him very attractive. But to them right now, he was just her annoying little brother. 

"Come on, you don't want Dad to come barging in here and give you that tired speech of how laziness is the root of all screw-ups, do you?" 

Sighing, he forced himself to sit up and scrambled off the bed on all fours. When he reached the floor, he managed to stumble into first, the hallway and then into the bathroom. 

***** 

"So, I'm saying that most girls love flowers and chocolates on Valentine's Day." 

"Joey isn't like most girls." 

A knowing grin started to appear on Ashley's face. "Ahh, you like Joey." 

"No way!" he cried out defensively. "Joey isn't someone you _like_. She's not even human." 

Ashley waited for him to explain further. 

"Look, it's just that Joey and I share something in common - lack of a father's affection - and she's been depressed about something lately. I want to cheer her up but I'm going to need an excuse to do something nice and V-Day's just around the corner so I thought I'd make use of it." 

His sister's expression turned solemn. "How is it that our conversations always find their way back to the subject of Dad?" 

"You tell me," he challenged, hoping with every bone in his body that she would. 

She sighed. "I can't tell you what you want to hear because I don't know." 

"Fine." He got up and dusted the dirt off his jeans. He made his way down the porch before his sister stopped him. 

"Pacey!" she called out. 

Turning around, he looked at her for a moment before saying, "Thanks for the advice, Lee." And then he ran off in the direction of Dawson's house. 

* * *

"Please don't tell me you're subscribing to the commercialization of the occasion!" 

"Come on, Joey, it's just a card." 

Dawson was visibly perturbed by the reaction of his best friend's reaction to his decision to handmake a Valentine's Day card for his current crush, Laurie Simpson. His hand was shaking as he tried to paint an outline of his heart. 

He finally gave up. "Will you please stop hovering above me?" 

"As you wish," she agreed and moved on to his bed. Falling backwards, she landed with a soft thud horizontally across the width of it, with her legs still dangling in the air. Closing her eyes, she concentrated on the chirping of the birds outside, that is, until she heard someone trudging up the stairs. Opening them again, her nose twitched as she viewed the face peering down at hers. 

"You know, you really do look better upset down." 

"Oh, _bite_ me!" she retorted, clenching her fist. 

He ignored her sarcasm and cheerfully greeted Dawson. "What's that?" 

The latter didn't look up from what he was doing. "Laurie Simpson," he said. 

Pacey came to stand behind him. "Good choice, dude," he encouraged. 

After a few moments of silence, Dawson began to get distracted. Turning back to look at Pacey who was fidgeting, he asked accusingly, "What?" 

"You might want to change the color scheme a little." 

"That's it! You," he pointed Pacey in the direction of his bed, "go and talk to Joey or something and leave me alone." 

"Hey, chill! Whatever you say, man." 

He walked over to sit on the bed but before he could say a word, she beat him to it. 

"I'm not talking to you." 

He raised an eyebrow. "Friendly," he observed. 

The room remained silent for about several minutes. Just as Pacey was about to break the peace, Joey interrupted. 

"Valentine's Day is so incredibly maudlin." 

"No, it isn't," Dawson countered. "It's a wonderful and romantic time to tell someone you love that you love them." 

"This is so mundane. Everyday should be a day like that so what makes the 14th of February so special?" 

"My, someone's touchy," Pacey contributed from his corner of the bed. 

If looks could kill, he'd probably be dead ten times over. 

"Just because you don't have a romantic bone in your body doesn't mean the whole world feels the same way." 

She sat up to defend herself against Dawson. "Listen, I'm just as romantic as the next person but this is-" 

Pacey couldn't help it; he laughed. "What, you? Romantic? Where in the world did you get that idea?" 

"I've had it!" she screamed before landing her pillow in his face. In retaliation, he grabbed the one he was resting on and threw it at her. And that was how a pillow fight started. 

Dawson seemed oblivious to his surroundings. Any indication that he knew what was going on was a slight wave of his free hand as he distractedly said without looking up, "Try not to break anything." 

He was answered with a loud shrill as Joey was backed into a corner and landed on the floor, struggling to get away as Pacey tugged at her leg to stop her from going anywhere. 

* * *

_  
Please send all comments and suggestions to: pacey@hockeymail.com_


	4. Your Secret Valentine

**Your Secret Valentine**   
**Chapter Four  
  
By Jade  
  
**

**Disclaimer****: _Dawson's Creek_ and its characters belong to Kevin Williamson, etc.   
  
Author's Note: Nothing much to say at this point, really...just maybe I'm glad to be back from the dreaded flu after being stuck in bed for what seemed like forever. I had finished this part slightly over a week ago but unfortunately, I fell sick before I could get to a computer to have it posted. This week spells loads of work as I attempt to catch up with missed lectures and tutorials. Luckily for me, I have the mid-weeks to look forward to as Pacey and the gang are back on TV on Wednesdays in the UK!**

* * *

"This isn't happening," she muttered under her breath. 

She closed her locker and looked it up and down. Convinced it belonged to her, she opened it again. 

Someone had slotted a red envelope into her locker. 

She slowly reached for it and gingerly touched the corners, as though it might suddenly bite her. Taking back her hand and examining the tips of her fingers, she concluded softly, "Doesn't look like there's poison." 

Next, she reached for the envelope and opened it. It was a handmade card, cut in the shape of a heart. "Doofus Dawson," she grumbled. 

Joey turned around to make sure no one was looking; she wasn't about to get caught with a valentine in her hand. She was about to flip it open to read it when a voice startled her from behind. 

With a reflex a poker player about to cheat would have been proud of, she flung the card and the envelope back into the locker, slammed the door shut and leaned back against it, as if she was done and had been about to leave anyway. 

"Hi!" she said, too quickly and too cheerfully. 

Pacey gazed suspiciously at her. "Are you feeling all right?" 

"Fine," she continued in a highly-strung voice. "Never been better! Got to go!" 

She walked off before he could tell her she had forgotten to lock up. 

***** 

"No way!" 

He lowered his voice as he realized that people had stopped to stare. Smiling awkwardly, he acted as if all was fine. Hastily, he turned his attention back to the source of his outburst. 

Grabbing the envelope, he opened it and read its content softly aloud: "Please meet me in the yard by the last bench after school. Enjoy today. Your Secret Valentine." 

He frowned. 

"All I did was criticize his sense of color," he mumbled, "he didn't have to play such a big joke on me..." 

* * *

She arrived in sixth period, only to find a box of chocolates and a stalk of red rose, on her desk. 

"You've got to be kidding." Hands on hips, she scrutinized the entire classroom for a suspect. Some of her classmates were snickering as they wondered who on earth would bestow Joey Potter, whose bad temper and hands-off attitude was renowned, with a Valentine's Day gift. 

Dawson chose to walk in at that moment. Immediately, he was pounced upon as he took his seat. 

"Hey!" he protested when Joey smacked him on the back of his head. Rubbing the spot where she had hit him, his face scrunched up in pain as he asked, "What was _that_ for?" 

"This," she said, throwing the card on the table, "and this!" She grabbed the box of chocolates and the flower off her desk and thrusted it at him. 

"Someone gave you candy?" he asked, amazed. 

She glared at him. "You should know!" 

"Joey, if you think-." 

She took another step forward and he automatically moved backward. 

"It wasn't me!" he denied. "I swear!" 

The menace in her eyes died down a little. Dawson could never lie to her and he wasn't lying to her now. 

She got back to her seat and flopped into it. Head in her hands, she mumbled, "Fabulous!" 

Dawson turned around, the card in his hand as he read the words softly, "Hope this cheers you up. Your Secret Valentine." 

Joey was slumped face down on her desk. 

"This is way too surreal..." Dawson continued to say. 

She took the card from him just as their teacher walked in. 

"You, me, after school. I'm going to find this guy." 

* * *

Pacey hadn't had a chance to talk to Dawson - until now. He spotted the latter and Joey, seated on the table, feet on the bench as they appeared deep in concentration, watching the after-school crowd hurry by. 

He quickened his step; he gave Dawson enough time to say, "H-" before hitting him on the head with the card. Joey watched, wide-eyed as she tried to bite back a smile at her friend's expense. 

"Ouch!" 

"Frankly, I'm a little hurt. Okay, so I insulted your taste and maybe, chipped one of your heads, but that was honestly an accid-" 

"Hold it!" 

Dawson was rubbing the back of his head as he looked from first, Joey, who shrugged her shoulders at him, and then to Pacey, who was waiting for an explanation of some kind. 

He was practically shouting when he asked, "What the hell are you talking about?" 

Pacey waved the card in front of his face. "This!" 

Dawson grabbed it out of his hand and read it; his eyes widened as they scanned the words. 

"Not you too!" he exclaimed. 

"Not me too what?" Pacey asked, less angry and now, confused as well. 

"Yeah, what?" Joey quipped. 

Dawson snatched Joey's card from her hand and gave it to Pacey and handed the latter's back to her. 

There was a moment's pause before they both burst out laughing at the same time. 

Pacey was visibly struck by the hilarity of it as he grinned from ear to ear. "Who in his right mind would send you a valentine?" 

"I was thinking the same about you," she challenged, a hint of a mocking smile, still on her face. 

"I'll have you know I've got plenty of admirers." 

Her voice was dripping with sarcasm. "Oh, I see. And is that why you thought Dawson was _your_ secret valentine?" 

"At least I didn't let it go to my head! Being my modest self, I was willing to check it out with him first." 

Joey was indignant. "And what do you think _I_ did? Kiss every guy in sight?" She was vaguely aware that she had probably just insulted herself with the insinuation that noone would even think about her romantically. 

"Hmmm..." Dawson was intrigued by the mystery of it. He drowned out the sounds of their argument as he thought out loud, "You know, if I didn't know any better, I'd guess that the two of you were responsible for each other's card." He laughed. "But that's ridiculous!" 

As he watched their faces, his chuckles faded to a sudden halt. "Oh my God!" 

Pacey snorted. "I have better things to do with my life. I did _not_ send her that card. Although, I'm beginning to wonder-" 

"In your dreams, buddy!" Joey interjected, before he managed to complete his sentence. "If I had to do something like that, believe me, you'd be the _last_ person on my list." 

"You say that now but-" 

"Pacey?" 

His brows wrinkled as he frowned at Joey. Unless she was practising to become a ventriloquist, he was sure she hadn't said a word. Slowly, he turned around and came face-to-face with Karen Lipton, who was standing a couple of feet from them. 

"Sorry I'm late," she said, in a soft and barely audible voice. 

Pacey turned back to look at his friends. They were staring at Karen, speechless. Seeing that they could offer no help, he swallowed before asking, "Y-, you sent me the valentine?" 

She nodded. 

He evaluated the situation: well, it ain't so bad. She looks nice enough, probably better without those huge glasses. Smart and geeky is good. In fact, it's terrific, he reassured himself. 

His smile came belatedly; about ten seconds too late. "W-would you just wait a second for me?" 

She nodded again. 

Joey felt like she was about to die from the effort of trying not to explode into, what was sure to become, unstoppable laughter. Fortunately, a male voice stopped her. 

"Hey, Joey!" 

Her first reaction was a blank look, followed by an appropriate "huh?". 

Now the boys' attention was turned to the person behind her. She was frightened out of her wits. 

The unfamiliar voice walked up to her side. She opened her mouth to speak but nothing came out. 

"It's Gary Mullen. I've just moved here from Holyoke." The boy was a fairly good-looking one, with light brown hair and as far as she could tell, green eyes. Up close, she could see that he had a light spattering of freckles across his nose as well. 

She only managed a "I-" and then she was stumped once again. 

Dawson intervened by introducing himself. 

Pacey also shook his hand, then he added, "You're new, huh? Then you won't know our Joey is seldom at a loss for words. You see, she's- ouch!" 

Dawson had pinched him in the motion of swinging an arm around the latter's shoulder. That shut Pacey up for awhile, which gave him enough time to separate all of them. 

"Pacey, why don't you go join Karen?" he said and gave him a shove in her direction. Then he patted Gary on the shoulder and advised, "Maybe, you should take Joey out for a drink. You guys must have a lot to talk about." With that, Dawson pushed himself away from the table and stepped off the bench onto the grass. "I see Laurie. Have to go." 

He didn't dare look back as he ran across the yard for his life. 

* * *

Pacey saw her dejected form from a distance. Head down, he dragged his feet and joined her on the bench. 

"She was sweet. But don't ask me to _ever_ do it again." 

"If I didn't feel as big a fool as you right now, I'd be rolling on the ground in sarcastic laughter." 

He raised his brow. "He didn't look too bad to me." 

She crossed her arms. "You can have him then. _If_ he wants you." 

"Snappy," he complained. "Well, actually I'm not surprised. We both know that this guy is nothing compared to our beloved friend Dawson." 

That got her undivided attention. "What the hell are you talking about?" she demanded. 

"Come on, we both know how much you wanted that valentine to be from Dawson. I bet you were thinking maybe he's starting to see you in a new light and hoping that things might just change that little bit, beyond friendship." 

"That is not true!" Her voice was seething with anger. 

"Try saying it with _less_ conviction," he suggested. "Joey, you ain't fooling anybody, least of all me." 

"Pacey," she warned. "This isn't funny!" 

"Don't worry," he said, looking her in the eye. "This remains a secret. It'll be interesting to see how long he takes to realize it." 

She stood up and returned his look icily. "No matter how right you think you are, you're not." And then she left him in a huff. 

He leaned his head back and closed his eyes. "If it'd make you feel any better, I wish I wasn't right either," he whispered into the cool breeze. 

* * *

Joey sat on Dawson's bed as she waited for him to relate the events of his date with Laurie Simpson. 

He was talking as he paced restlessly back and forth. 

"She is so pretty and great to talk to. We have so much in common really-" 

"I had fun with Gary as well. He is very sweet," she interrupted. 

"I want to see her again-" 

"Me too. See Gary, I mean." 

Dawson smiled. And then he settled himself by her side. "But," he continued, "she said something about you that I didn't like, so I told her that's it." 

Joey was caught by surprise. 

"Nothing will come between us and our friendship." 

She had been about to grin when the significance of his promise hit her. With an awkward smile instead, she reassured him with as much optimism as she could muster. "You're absolutely right, Dawson." 

* * *

_  
Please send all comments and suggestions to: pacey@hockeymail.com_


	5. Cuts

**Cuts   
****Chapter Five  
  
By Jade**

**Disclaimer****: As in previous parts.   
  
Author's Note: I hope everyone had a wonderful Easter. For those who have been waiting patiently, I apologize for the delay - I've been away for the past 3 weeks or so and had no chance to get any writing done. Okay, let's get right to it. **

* * *

"Hi, sweetie." 

Joey blinked. She hoped like hell she wasn't hallucinating. 

The man opened out his arms to her and she ran into them. 

"Daddy," she whispered. 

***** 

"I wasn't kidding when I told you to get off your ass and start hitting the books!" 

"A little TV isn't going to make much difference," he replied, almost nonchalantly. 

"I'm warning you, don't test my patience." 

He looked right into his father's eyes. 

John Witter looked like he was about to explode. 

He let a few moments pass before getting to his feet. Turning to his mother, who had come out of the kitchen when she heard the commotion, he said as calmly as he could, "I'll be in my room." 

* * *

"Your mother went grocery shopping. She's planning this huge feast for me." 

Joey couldn't stop grinning. "I'm so glad you're home." 

"I'm glad to be home." 

Her grin wavered a little as a thought hit her. "Dad?" 

"Yes, Joey?" 

"Will you be leaving again soon?" 

He put his arm around her and squeezed her tightly. "I'll be staying for awhile." 

***** 

"Mom, please don't even say it. I'm really not in the mood." 

"Honey, just try not to antagonize him before tomorrow's Parent-Teacher meeting." 

"Oh _I_ see, tonight's just a prelude then." 

"Can you turn around when you're talking to me?" 

Pacey remained with his back to her. "I am sick and tired of listening to the excuses you make up to explain his attitude toward me." He reached for a book on the shelf and sat himself at his desk. "I really should start on my work now, don't you think?" 

He was glad when he heard the door close behind him, for a few seconds later, a tear fell from his eye and left a water mark on his opened page. 

* * *

She was awakened by muffled voices in the next room. Sitting up, she rubbed her eyes and looked over at Bessie, who was soundly asleep. Deciding she needed a glass of water, she got out of bed and made her way to the kitchen. As she walked past her parents' room, she saw that the door was ajar and then she heard them arguing. 

"Tell them you're quitting." 

"I can't." 

"You can't do this to us." Sarah Potter began to sob softly. "How are the girls and I going to cope if anything should happen to you?" 

"Nothing is going to happen to me, I promise you." 

"I'm begging you to stop, we don't need the money." 

"Sarah, please don't do this! You know I have to go through with the deal." 

"All I know," her voice quivered, "is that I'm not sitting around, waiting for some call to tell me that you've been caught or you're dead-" 

Joey had heard enough. She slipped away silently, as she no longer felt thirsty. 

The next morning, she awoke to the sound of her mother crying. She knew even before she looked: her father was gone. 

* * *

Grabbing a twig off the ground, he started to run it through the bushes by his side; at the same time, he kicked away the small stones that stood in his path. He paid no other attention to his surroundings until he neared his destination. Looking up, he paused. 

Joey had found herself with nowhere else to go. She hadn't felt like staying home, nor had she felt like going to Dawson's. Left with no other alternative, she came back to a spot she hadn't visited in years. 

As she looked around her, she noticed that little had changed. The giant trees around her still provided shelter from the sun; the birds that resided in these trees still chirped happily; every now and then, a breeze would come along, lightly touching the surface of the otherwise, undisturbed creek. 

No, she was wrong. Everything had changed. 

A memory so familiar ran through his mind: he saw a nine-year old Joey, knees to her chest, sad and vulnerable. 

Joey closed her eyes and reveled in the feeling of the wind against her face. As hard as she tried, she couldn't stop the tear that found its way down her cheek. 

Behind her, Pacey stood watching. Then he turned away, and headed for the other direction. 

* * *

"You guys had a good week-end?" 

Taking a seat across from Joey, Dawson looked from one friend to the other. "Well?" 

"Wonderful," she mumbled as she offered a brief smile and then returned to reading a book, in which she seemed so engrossed. 

Pacey glanced at her and frowned. Realizing that Dawson was waiting for him to say something, he absently replied, "Yeah, couldn't be better." 

"Well, my Mom and Dad decided to..." 

Neither of them was paying any attention. As Joey found herself re-reading the same paragraph over and over again, she decided that there was no use in pretending she was getting any studying done. She shut her book and looked up, only to meet an equally sad pair of eyes. 

With Dawson chattering in the background, both of them stared at each other. It was her turn to frown. As Pacey noted the question in her eyes, he looked away before she could ask him anything. 

Hastily, he patted his friend on the shoulder and added, "Great to hear that, Dawson. Tell us more." 

* * *

He hesitated as he saw her standing by his locker after school. Smiling widely, he approached her. "Well, well, this is a surprise. What can I do for you, Ms. Potter?" 

She said nothing but continued to watch him. 

"What? Do I smell bad or something?" he joked. 

"You know something. I see it in your eyes," she said, matter-of-factly. 

"Joey-" 

"I know we have more arguments than proper conversations, but I'm not totally insensitive and neither are you. I just wanted to say tha- thank you for caring." She started to walk away but then stopped to add, "I may not look it but I'm an okay listener." Without waiting for his reaction, she made a move to leave. 

"Jo?" 

She turned back and he took a step forward. 

"So am I," he said. 

She stared blankly at him and then broke into a slight, awkward smile. 

"I'll remember that." 

* * *

"Mom had a last-minute appointment she had to keep. She said we could order pizza." 

"Hmmm," she replied, her mind not exactly on dinner. 

Bessie picked up the telephone, poised to dial the number. "Pepperoni or Seafood?" she asked. 

"Whichever." 

After her sister had put down the receiver, Joey decided to satisfy her curiosity. 

"Bessie?" 

"Yeah?" 

"Do you remember any of the Witters from school?" 

Bessie shifted in her chair at the dinner table to face the latter who was sitting on the couch. "Witter? As in your friend, Pacey Witter?" 

"Yes." 

She wrinkled her brow in confusion. "Why don't you ask him then?" 

Joey shrugged. "He doesn't say much about his family. I was just wondering, that's all. It's no big deal." 

"Well," she thought hard. "I do recall Doug Witter. He was one year older so I didn't really know him but from what I heard, he was pretty obnoxious just 'cause his father's the town sheriff. Constantly bringing up the fact to impress girls and to scare the guys. Such a daddy's boy." 

"I see," Joey said softly. 

"Is Pacey anything like his brother?" 

She drifted off for a moment before shaking herself back down to earth. "No, no," she replied. "Couldn't be farther." 

* * *

"What are you telling me?" 

The doctor closed the door behind her and gestured to the chair. "Sarah, please take a seat." 

"I don't want to sit down!" She realized she had been shouting and lowered her voice. In a calmer tone, she pleaded, "Carrie, just give it to me straight. Please." 

"I received the test results this afternoon." The doctor sighed. "Sarah, I'm afraid chemotherapy's our next option." 

* * *

"Come in!" he shouted, in reply to the knock at his door. He guessed correctly who it was even before he looked. Only two people in the family were polite enough to knock first. 

"Hey, slugger." 

He smiled and she came to sit beside him on the bed. They sat in silence as he shuffled through some old baseball cards that he intended to give away. 

"I got a letter from UCLA today." 

He stopped shuffling and laid the cards aside. 

"I was unconditionally accepted." He took her hand. She looked worriedly at him. "I don't want to leave you here-" 

Determined to put on a brave front, he said without hesitation, "I'll miss you, Lee, but it's definitely time for you to go." 

She hugged him tightly to her. "Just remember if you ever need me..." 

"Thanks, sis." He was trying his best to swallow past the lump in his throat. "But this is the last place you should ever come back to," he added, his voice almost devoid of emotion. 

***** 

Joey allowed her tears to fall freely as she listened to her mother explain the procedure. She rested her head on the latter's shoulder, whilst Bessie cried in her lap. On the table, pizza was left untouched and sounds coming from the television set in the kitchen faded into the background as Sarah Potter tried her best to sound optimistic for her daughters' sake. 

"We'll be fine," she kept repeating. 

* * *

_  
Please send all comments and suggestions to: pacey@hockeymail.com_


	6. The Good Fight

**The Good Fight**   
**Chapter Six  
  
By Jade**

**Disclaimer****: Two words - _Kevin Williamson_.   
  
Author's Note: I've just been catching up on programs that I asked a friend to record while I was away from England. All I can say is that I bawled my eyes out when Bobby Simone passed away. _NYPD Blue _seems to get better with each season. Okay, time to return to _Dawson's Creek_. [All right, I've just heard about Wayne Gretzky retiring: my horrid day is now complete.]**

* * *

Pacey slipped the strap of his backpack over his other shoulder and got on his bike, ready to make his way home when he saw Dawson running toward him. 

"H-hey," the latter managed to say before having to draw another breath. 

"Slow down," he advised. 

"Joey didn't make it- couldn't make it, for last period Spanish and I can't get the notes to her because I'm due to see Mrs. Forbes about my English project-" he paused to look at his watch, "-right about now. Could yo-" 

Dawson didn't need to finish his sentence. Pacey had grabbed the notebook out of his hand and was in the process of putting it in his backpack. "Of course, I'll do it. Anything to help out, right?" he said, giving Dawson a regretful smile. "How is she?" he added, as an afterthought. 

"Joey's been helping out more now than Bessie's down with the flu. Let's just say that at times, Mrs. Potter looks even better than Joey." He sighed and started to back up. "Look, I have to run. Thanks for doing this." 

"Don't worry, I'll be sure to get these to her," he said loudly, as he watched Dawson hurry up the stairs and back into the school building. 

***** 

He reached out to knock on the front door and it opened slightly under the pressure of his knuckles. 

"Hello?" he called out. "Anyone home?" 

When there was no answer, he took a step into the seemingly empty house. He closed the door behind him and wandered into the living room. Glancing into the kitchen, he saw a load of dirty dishes in the sink but no one and decided to make his way upstairs. 

From the landing, he could see clothes strewn all over the place. The laundry basket was spilling over and the ironing board, that had previously been leaning against the wall, was now half-lying on the floor. 

He had his pick of three rooms. Bypassing the bathroom, he went for the one that was half-opened. Peeking in, he found what he was looking for. As silently as he could, he tiptoed to the side of the bed, and kneeled to her level. Gently, he shook her slumbering figure by the shoulder. "Joey," he whispered. 

She stirred slightly and turned her head in his direction but did not wake up. 

Subconsciously, she swept her hair out of her eyes as she continued to rest half her body on the bed. Seeing that, he tried again. 

"Joey." 

Her eyes fluttered open and her expression was one of confusion as she tried to place the face in front of her. All of a sudden, she jumped up in the chair she had been occupying and turned toward the other person in the room. 

When she saw that her mother was sleeping soundly, she heaved a sigh of relief. Leaning over, she tucked the blanket up to the latter's chin. Joey stood there staring for awhile and Pacey thought that she had forgotten he was there until she turned to him and signaled that they should talk outside. 

She looked like hell. "You look like you haven't slept in days." 

"Tell me something I don't know." She rubbed her temples as she felt a headache coming on. Worse still, her neck was beginning to ache too, from her awkward sleeping position by the bed. "What are you doing here?" she asked, tired. 

Pacey held up the book in his head. "I came by to give you homework. Dawson couldn't make it today." 

She took it from him. "Thanks," she said and started to make her way downstairs. He followed suit. 

Dumping Dawson's notebook on the table, she collapsed onto the couch and winced as she felt one of the springs give way. Eyes shut, she muttered, "Help yourself if you want something to drink, although I don't think there's anything in the kitchen." 

In reflex, she touched her fingers to the area where her neck met her right shoulder as she experienced a spasm but felt Pacey move her hand aside and began to knead her shoulders. She allowed him to weave his magic as her muscles loosened and she let herself relax. 

"Better?" he asked. 

"Hmm..um," she answered. 

After a couple more minutes, he stopped and she silently protested. She felt the couch sink beneath her as Pacey occupied the space beside her. "Lean back," he said. 

She opened her eyes in surprise. "Huh?" 

"I'm offering additional leverage," he replied as he grabbed a cushion off an armchair and put it on his lap. Noticing her look, he added, "I'm not going to jump you, okay? I'm just trying to present an alternative from this discomfort." He got his point across by shifting uncomfortably on the hard couch. 

She was much too tired to argue with him, so she did as he said. She leaned back and got into a comfortable position, head on his lap, lying on her side, with her hands tucked under her left ear. "I would wake Bessie up but she was running a fever last night and she needs her rest." Her voice was getting softer and softer, her eyes drifting closed as she allowed sleep to slowly overtake the remainder of her conscious state of mind. 

Pacey tucked a lock of hair behind her ear so that he could see her profile. "How's your Mom doing?" 

"The chemo's got her nauseous all the time and she can't seem to get much food down," she mumbled. 

"And you?" 

"I'm ok-, just want to s-sleep..." 

"It's only been two months and you're this washed out. You know, you're going to have to take better care of yourself if you plan on making it through this." 

She didn't say a word. Instead, he was answered with the sounds of even breathing. 

"Joey?" He bent his head slightly to look at her. She didn't budge. 

She had fallen fast asleep and it looked like she was about to stay this way for awhile. He surveyed the living room, wondering what he should do. 

Not very much, he thought. So, he picked up the phone beside him and dialed the number home. 

"Mom? I don't think I'm going to be able to make it for dinner." 

***** 

She awoke to the aroma of heated pizza in the microwave, followed by the rumbling of her stomach. 

She sat up and rubbed her eyes. It was dark, as if the sun had just set. 

She got on her feet groggily and stumbled into the kitchen. It smelled good and it looked good. 

Wait a second, she thought to herself. "Who washed the dishes?" she asked aloud. 

Making her way up the stairs and into their bedroom, she was about to reproach Bessie for exerting herself when she came upon her sister in her bed, looking like she hadn't been awake in a long time. "That medicine sure is lethal," she mumbled. 

Closing the door silently, she was about to enter the next room when she noticed that the hallway was cleared of clothes and the ironing board was put neatly into a corner. 

She raised a brow. In this moment of pause, low voices drifted from the room. 

"I promise I'll try my best." 

"Thank you, Pacey." 

Thank you for what, she wondered. Hoping to hear more, she continued to stand by the doorway but there was only silence. 

Pushing the door aside, she was greeted by the sight of Pacey sitting by her mother, who was propped up against the headboard, her hand covering his. 

"Hi," she interrupted. 

Pacey turned to look at her. She met his eyes and frowned. 

His eyes looked suspiciously moist, but only for a moment as he composed himself and flashed her a smile. 

Correctly interpreting her expression, he offered an explanation without being asked. "Mrs. Potter and I were just talking about how I should come by more to clean the place up." 

"_You_ picked up the mess?" 

He nodded. She believed _that_, but she didn't believe for one second that was what they had been talking about before she came into the room. 

"The laundry's in the dryer and there's pizza in the oven." 

She nodded and turned her attention to her mother. "Mom, you need anything?" 

Sarah sighed. "Stop fussing over me like I'm an invalid, will you? Joey, go have your dinner." She had resumed a strict, motherly tone, in spite of her apparent weakness. 

Joey frowned even more. "Are you certain?" 

Pushing Pacey off the edge of the bed gently, she gestured toward the door. "Go, go." 

They obliged and left the room. Safely on the other side, she wasted no time in interrogating him. "What did she tell you?" 

He made a face at her. "Cut me some slack, will you?" 

Without waiting for a reply, he ran downstairs, leaving her to chase after him. 

"Pizza?" he asked when they stepped into the kitchen. 

"Don't change the subject." 

He threw his hands in the air, clearly exasperated. "Why are you so paranoid?" 

She took hold of his arms to make him turn toward her. "Look me in the eye and tell me that." 

He leaned forward and looked her directly in the eye. "I _wasn't_ lying." 

Joey stared back at him. He didn't flinch one bit. 

Left with no choice, she let go. 

He shook his head and turned away to slice the pizza. "You are so suspicious," he complained. 

She twitched her nose behind his back, a little embarrassed at her behavior. She hadn't even thanked him for his help before she jumped to conclusions, she chided herself. 

If she had caught a glimpse of the uneasiness reflected on his face right then, she wouldn't have been so quick to feel guilty. Inwardly, he was thanking his lucky stars she didn't pursue the matter further because he wasn't so sure that he could lie again, without giving himself away. 

* * *

"Uncle Dan, um, you got a moment?" 

"Come on in and take a seat, son." 

Pacey pulled up a chair and fidgeted nervously as he watched the man get up from behind his desk and close the door. Leaning back against the table, Dan regarded Pacey with concern. "Are you in some kind of trouble?" 

"Not that I know of," he joked, his laughter eventually disappearing beneath his obvious anxiety. 

Dan Marino was the most senior of four deputy sheriffs working under his father. He was of average height and weight; a fairly healthy 40-year-old man, with a head of premature white hair and kind, hazel eyes. Unlike his father, Uncle Dan never judged anyone before he got his facts right. 

That was why he was seeking the latter's help in secret. 

"You see, it's like this." He swallowed. "I-I have this friend whose mother's sick right now. Cancer." 

"Go on." 

"Joey, this friend, well, her father travels a lot and her mother's worried 'cause she has no idea where he is an-and- I sound really naive." He stood up so hastily, the chair he had been sitting on fell to the floor with a bang. "I'm sorry," he said embarrassed as he bent down to pick the chair up. "This is crazy-" 

Following his fatherly instincts, he felt an instant protectiveness toward the thirteen-year-old, whom he had always regarded as the son he never had. Not that he minded having two daughters. Pacey was a good boy; his father was always complaining about how lazy he was and that he would eventually come up to no-good but Dan thought otherwise. He felt that Pacey was a lot smarter than he chose to reveal himself to be and was often misjudged, as a result. 

"Son, I'm listening." 

Pacey took a deep breath and sat himself down again. He leaned forward to put his elbows on the table and covered his face with his hands. Feeling more composed, he took in another breath. 

"Joey's mother told me that her husband gets speeding tickets a lot. She's pretty sure he's not far from Capeside, and she really needs to see him. So on impulse, I told her that I might be able to help locate him by giving you a license plate number." He had spoken so quickly, he found himself slurring some of his words. 

Dan stared at him blankly for awhile before speaking. "Let me get this straight. You want me to type a license plate number into the computer so that I _may_ come up with a location for-" He took the piece of paper that Pacey handed out to him. "-a Mr. J. Michael Potter?" 

"Or maybe you might pull him up yourself." He grimaced at the slight astonishment in Dan's voice and conceded a "Ya" to his question. 

The latter shook his head in amazement. "You must like this girl a lot. Either that or you watch too much TV." 

Ignoring the knowing look on the man's face, Pacey chose not to defend himself on either count. "Joey doesn't know about this. And for some reason, her mother doesn't want her to find out." 

Dan had spoken to the young boy on several occasions but had never heard him so serious. 

"I-Mrs. Potter's real sick and I don't think she thinks she's going to make it. She had this- look in her eyes when I was talking to her. As if she knew..." 

"Pacey-" 

"I suggested I might be able to help. It was _my_ idea. You can pretend I never said a word," he interrupted, to explain. 

The man took a long, hard look at Pacey and considered his request for several moments. "I will see what I can do but don't get your hopes up," he finally said. 

Pacey's uneasiness turned into a wide grin. "That's enough for me." He stood up and offered a handshake. "Thank you, Uncle Dan." 

Dan took his hand and patted him on the shoulder. "You take care now." 

He turned to go before he remembered something else. "Could we, er, keep this between us?" 

"Your father won't hear it from me, I promise." 

Pacey nodded in gratitude. 

"Son, you are a good person. Don't ever give up fighting for what you feel is rightfully yours, no matter what anyone says." 

_Anyone_, he thought. It's never easy when _anyone_'s your own father. 

* * *

_  
Please send all comments and suggestions to: pacey@hockeymail.com_


	7. The Water Is Wide

**The Water Is Wide**  
**Chapter Seven  
  
By Jade**

**Disclaimer****: Nothing originally out of _Dawson's Creek _belongs to me.   
  
Author's Note: Just seen Rick Schroder's debut as Danny Sorenson in _NYPD Blue_...love him! As some readers may be able to tell, I've been inspired by Bobby Simone's dream sequences prior to his death (and a lot of other films, come to think of it)...had no intention of plagiarizing so I've only borrowed the concept. **

* * *

_"Hello, Sarah." _

_She looked curiously at the elegant woman in front of her. She was dressed in white from head-to-toe and appeared to be somewhere in her '60s. _

_"Hello," she replied. "Do I know you?" _

_The old woman shook her head and smiled. "No, I don't suppose so." She gestured toward the rock opposite her and waved the latter over. "Come sit with me." _

_It was then that Sarah noticed she was standing in the middle of some forest, surrounded by tall trees and the soothing sounds of nature. _

_She walked to the rock and sat down. "I must be dreaming," she said. _

_The woman smiled again and Sarah was struck by how much she looked like Audrey Hepburn. _

_"My name is Jean," she said. "And no, you're not dreaming." _

_"What am I doing here?" _

_"Having a chat with me. It's been awhile since we spoke." _

_Sarah raised her brow in question. _

_Jean leaned forward and grazed her cheek with the back of her hand. "The last time we met, you were only a baby." _

_"You must have known my parents then." _

_"Yes, I know them." _

_Sarah sighed. "You haven't heard. They died years ago." She looked down, afraid her facial expression would give away her emotions. _

_"I know." _

_Sarah jerked her head up in surprise. "You do?" _

_Jean cupped her face gently in her hands and spoke softly. "Sarah, it wasn't your fault." _

* * *

"Mom?" 

Her eyes fluttered open and she tried to adjust them to the sunlight streaming in from the window. 

"Mom, I'm leaving for school. I should be back by four-thirty." 

"Joey?" 

"Yeah, Mom. Who did you think I was?" 

She peered at the lovely face before her and lifted an unsteady hand. 

Joey took it. "What's wrong?" she enquired. 

Her mother answered her with a somewhat regretful smile. "Nothing. It's just that you look so much like your grandmother when she was young." 

"I don't even remember Nana that well." She glanced at the clock on the wall. "Okay, Mom, I got to go if I'm going to make first period." She bent down to kiss her mother on the forehead. "I'll see you later." 

"Yes, I will see you later," she whispered. 

* * *

Bessie crossed and uncrossed her legs repeatedly as she restlessly browsed through a magazine. After coming across the same pages for the tenth time, she finally gave up and threw it aside. Straightening, she began to pace. 

The nurse seated at the front desk glanced at her and then returned to her paperwork. 

She walked up and down the hallway a couple more times before a door opened and she saw the doctor approaching. 

"Bessie," the latter acknowledged. 

She returned the gesture. "Dr. Harrison." 

The doctor reached out and patted Bessie on the shoulder. "We're done for the day. You can take her home now." 

"Is she any better?" 

"It's too early to tell, Bessie." 

She nodded. 

As Dr. Harrison turned to walk away, Bessie impulsively put out a hand to stop her. "Tell me the truth. Does it look good?" 

The latter could see that the young girl wouldn't be appeased until she offered her view on the matter. "In my opinion, your mother's condition may require more time than we originally thought, to improve. However, it is honestly too soon to write off chemotherapy completely." 

"Thank you, Doctor." 

With the echo of departing footsteps, she was once again left alone in the long, quiet corridor. Walking toward the room, she took in a deep breath before opening the door. Her mother had already changed out of her hospital gown and put on her headscarf, and was sitting on the bed, staring out the window. 

Plastering a wide smile on her face, she greeted her mother. "Mom." 

Sarah Potter looked back at the sound of her daughter's voice and absently offered a silent greeting in her smile. 

The nurse who had been in the room, changing the sheets off the other bed, paused in her chore, distracted and visibly amazed by the striking resemblance between mother and daughter. 

Bessie came to sit beside her mother on the bed. "I bought some oranges, to curb the nausea." She put the fruits on the table and took one out. "Want me to peel one now?" 

"Yes, I'd like that." 

Behind them, the nurse silently left the room. Outside, she sighed and shook her head at the sad predicament of an evidently, close family. 

* * *

"Joey, I'd like to see you after class, if that's not a problem." 

"Erm," she hesitated. "All right. It won't take long, would it? I have to hurry home." 

"No," Mrs. Easton assured, "It won't take up much of your time." 

Joey nodded and took her seat in the center of the classroom. The bell rang and Pacey had just about skidded in. Panting, he rushed to his seat, on her left. 

"Great timing as usual, Mr. Witter." 

With a mischievous grin and a mock salute, he replied, "Thank you, ma'am and good afternoon to you too." 

Mrs. Easton could not help but shake her head at her inability to remain strict and solemn. Holding back an amused look, she told the class, "I know that this is your last class for the day but until the bell goes, I'm still in charge. All right, take out your books." 

***** 

"Joey, let me get straight to the point. In consideration of your situation at home, you are coping extraordinarily well. Your schoolwork has hardly been affected." 

"I don't understand. If there isn't a problem-" 

Mrs. Easton moved from her position behind the desk to in front of it. "Joey, the other teachers and I are not worried about your performance in school. It's your emotional being that we're concerned about." 

Joey dismissed her concern. "There's really no need for this. I'm fine." 

"Mrs. Jayne Anderson is a psychiatrist that works with our students on occa-" 

"I don't need therapy." Joey tried her best to sound firm without being rude but she was slowly losing her patience with this conversation. 

"I'm just suggesting someone you could talk to in confidence about how you feel." 

"I _feel_ fine." 

Mrs. Easton looked at the stubbornness etched in Joey's face and the firm tilt of her chin and knew she stood no chance in convincing the latter. 

"All right. No therapist. But at least, let us help you with the care of your mother." Before Joey had a chance to object, she added, "There's a health program jointly organized by the town council and a hospice, which involves the dispatching of qualified, volunteer nurses, to homes in the local areas that could do with their help." 

Joey, looking down at her lap, appeared to be considering her proposal but when she looked up, her eyes told a different story. 

"I don't think so, Mrs. Easton." She stood up, pushing her chair back noisily. "But thank you, anyway." 

Grabbing her backpack, she left, not giving the latter a chance to attempt to convince her. 

* * *

Seeing that he was alone upstairs for the moment, he grabbed the phone off the hook and hastily punched in the number for the local sheriff's office. 

Someone picked up on the fourth ring. He was relieved to hear a familiar voice. 

"Uncle Dan? It's me, Pacey." 

"Pacey. Why are you whispering?" 

"Oh, I'm sorry," he raised his voice a little. "Out of habit, I suppose. I hadn't realized I was doing that." 

"The answer's not yet, son." 

Pacey was silent for a few moments, in disappointment. 

"Pacey?" 

"I'm still here." 

"Don't give up so soon," the voice on the other line encouraged. "It's only been a couple of weeks." 

"I just hope it won't be too late when we finally find him." 

* * *

"I'm home," she called out, dumping her bag into a corner. Seeing Bessie coming down the stairs, she asked, "Mom asleep?" 

"About five minutes." Bessie threw herself on the couch and closed her eyes. 

Joey, in turn, sat herself on the armchair, rested her feet on the coffee table and closed her eyes as well. 

"I'm dropping out of college." 

Joey was totally thrown off-guard. Her feet fell to the floor with a thud and she sat up in alarm. "What?" 

"You heard me." Bessie still had her eyes closed. 

"You can't be serious!" 

"Keep your voice down." 

"Bessie, this is no joke." 

She opened her eyes. "I wasn't joking." Still lying on the couch, she turned her head slightly to look at her younger sister. "We both know it has to be done. Mom needs full-time care." 

Joey shook her head in disagreement. "No," she said stubbornly, "We'll think of something." 

Bessie stared at the ceiling and allowed a few moments of silence to pass between them before speaking again. 

"Joey, I'm _not_ like you. My dreams don't involve a college education nor a career that would take me out of Capeside." 

"You can't say that." 

"But it's true, ain't it?" Bessie sat up and leaned forward to look Joey in the eye. "Why do you think I was splitting my time between a job and studying in the nearby community college? 

"If this is about having to give up your job to take care of Mom-" 

"_No_, Joey. You're not listening. This is not about Mom or the job. This is about me." 

Joey refused to listen anymore. She stood up and walked into the kitchen. 

"We don't rank the things in our life in the same order of importance. I'm not ambitious like you. I'm not even sure I know what I want in life." 

"If you think I know what I want, you're wrong, she protested. "I'm just as clueless as you are. Dawson's the one with the goals, not _me_." 

"Joey-" 

"All I know is that we both deserve an equal chance and I will _not_ allow you to sacrifice your education for me." 

"This is not about sacrifice!" Bessie ran her hands through her hair in frustration. "Why can't you understand? I just don't want to study anymore!" 

She was taken aback by her sister's sudden outburst. Seeing the look in Bessie's eyes, it appeared so was she. Hastily, the latter made her way out of the house to the porch. 

Joey went after her and stood by the door as she watched Bessie, curled up, her forehead resting on her knees, hands covering her face. 

She sat herself down. "I'm listening, Bess. Talk to me." 

Reaching out, she covered Joey's hand with her own. She raised her head and took a deep breath. 

Joey smiled, encouraging her to speak her mind. 

"Ever since I could remember, I have always dreamt of owning a restaurant. A place that I built with money that I earned. Something to call my own. Nothing else seemed important." She paused. "Not even college." 

Joey squeezed her hand. 

"What I'm trying to say is, could you ever forgive me for giving up?" 

She was close to tears as she hugged her sister tightly to her. "No, Bessie, you were right and I was wrong. Could you find it in your heart to forgive me?" 

Bessie smiled, as a tear fell down her cheek. 

Joey returned her smile. "And you know what else? Contrary to your belief, I think you already know what you want in life." 

* * *

_The first thing she noticed when she opened her eyes was that she was sitting in a boat, that was still tied to a pier. The fog surrounding her lifted a little, allowing her to see beyond it. A figure was standing on the dock above her. _

_"Jean?" she called out. _

_The figure nodded. "Hello, Sarah." _

_"What am I doing here?" She shifted in the boat, trying to see around her. All she saw was a vast, peaceful expanse of water. _

_"I'm here to guide you to your destination." _

_"Wh-where are we going?" _

_Jean was standing too far away for Sarah to see her expression properly but nonetheless, she felt safe. Until, she began to feel herself drifting further and further away. _

_"Jean, I can't do this on my own!" _

_"Sarah." The latter's voice was as soothing as ever. "I'm here to guide you, but it's your strength that will eventually lead you there." _

_Sarah shook her head adamantly. "No, I can't do this!" _

_***** _

Joey was awakened by the sound of her mother thrashing about in her sleep. 

She was up and running in a second, closely followed by Bessie. 

She held one arm down whilst Bessie took the other and began to shake their mother by the shoulders. "Mom! Wake up! You're having a bad dream!" 

_"Calm down, Sarah." _

_"Jean, you've got to help me." _

"What's she saying? Who's Jean?" 

Joey was answered with a blank look from her sister. 

_"Sarah, there's nothing to fear. You're going to see your parents again and I promise they'll keep you safe." _

_The panic in Sarah diminished. "Mom and Dad?" she asked. _

Bessie was struck by alarm when she heard her mother cry out for her grandparents. "Oh my God, she's hallucinating." 

_"They're waiting for you." _

_"How about Mike? He's not here yet. I shouldn't leave without him." _

_All of a sudden, Sarah found herself no longer in the boat, but on shore with Jean. _

_The latter took both her hands and engulfed them in the warmth of hers. "Okay," she agreed. "We shall wait for Mike." _

"There is no way we're going to find Dad on such short notice. We don't even know where he is." 

They had finally been able to put their mother back to sleep and had made their way into the kitchen, where they could talk, without disturbing her. 

"Who said we were going to?" Joey replied, solemnly. 

"Joey, _please_. This is not the time. Mom obviously wants to see him and that's what counts." She held her younger sister by the arms. "Are we good?" 

Joey mutely agreed, with the slight tilt of her chin. 

"Okay, let's just go to bed and talk about this tomorrow." 

* * *

_  
Please send all comments and suggestions to: _pacey@hockeymail.com__


	8. Take Me There

**Take Me There**  
**Chapter Eight  
  
By Jade**

**  
  
****Disclaimer****: All belongs to Kevin Williamson.   
  
Author's Note: Since we're about 10 episodes behind in England, I only just found out the first name of Joey's mother from transcripts on the WWW; unfortunately I have written too far into the series to make a change so I'm leaving it as it is. Just pretend Mrs. Potter's first name is _*Sarah* _not *_Lillian*_...after all, this is fanfic, pretending is mandatory ****J**

**

* * *

**

"Let's face it. We've called everyone in the book, we can't find him." 

Bessie stopped rummaging through the drawers long enough to cast her an exasperated look. "Could you try to contain your optimism? I've got enough to cope with." 

Joey remained silent in response and returned to flipping through the phone book as her sister searched for what ever useful information she might stumble upon. 

"I've had enough." She slammed the book shut. "I'm going over to Dawson's for awhile." 

Joey was out the door before Bessie could protest in any way. 

***** 

"I've told Bessie it's ridiculous but she never listens to me." 

"Joey, I'm really in no position to say anything about this but what I can say is, if Bessie feels that there is a chance, you shouldn't stop trying." 

"Why shouldn't I?" She got up from the bed and walked to the window. "He doesn't even know Mom's sick." The bitter tone in her voice was not lost on either of them. 

Dawson looked to the other figure in the room, who was standing by a corner, deep in thought. 

"Pacey!" he called. "What's up with you, man? You've been so distracted lately." 

The more Pacey listened to Joey talk about her father, the more he understood why her mother did not want her to find out what she had asked him to do. 

He was in the midst of a moral dilemma when Dawson interrupted his thoughts. "I'm all right," he replied. "Don't bother about me." 

Joey raised a brow at Pacey's apparent change from his usual self. Normally, he wouldn't hesitate to make a few insulting remarks at her expense but today, he just seemed _different._

They both waited for a further explanation but he offered none. Pacey was so out of sorts, he missed the inquisitive looks they exchanged. 

In reality, Joey's mind wasn't really on the present either. Whether she was physically at home or not, her thoughts were never far from her mother who was getting sicker by the day. Her running to Dawson's now and then was only a temporary escape. 

"I have to go." She picked up her sweater and got ready to climb out the same way she came in. "I'll see you guys in school on Monday." 

* * *

Sarah heard someone quietly open the door and step into the dimly-lit room. "I'm awake," she said to her visitor on the other side of the blue curtain. 

Dr. Carrie Harrison stepped out from the shadows and smiled. "Sarah, I was hoping you were resting." 

She made an effort to sit up as Dr. Harrison hurried to help her. "I am rested," she replied. She mumbled a weak word of thanks as she laid back against the pillow. 

The latter backed up to survey her patient's progress. "You look good," she concluded. 

Sarah let out a chuckle. "Bullshit. I look a mess." She instinctively raised her hand to feel beneath her head scarf. "I used to have such beautiful hair." 

"Sarah-" 

"Carrie, you have always been honest with me. Don't stop now." 

Dr. Harrison took a long look at the medical chart she was holding and ran her finger down it. Then she raised her gaze to meet Sarah's. 

"The chemo's not working as well as we had hoped." 

She nodded silently in response. 

"I have conferred with my colleagues and we've decided that it's best if we-" 

"How long?" 

"I beg your pardon?" 

"How long do I have?" she repeated, with every ounce of strength she could manage. 

"Sarah." The doctor paused as she saw the stubbornness etched in the latter's eyes. Sighing as she sat herself on the bed beside her patient. "You have one month, two possibly. But if you continue treatment, six months even." 

Sarah closed her eyes for a moment and when she opened them again, she had already made up her mind. 

"I don't want to sit here and wait to die." She covered Dr. Harrison's hand with her own. "Carrie, I want to be home when the time comes, with my girls near me." 

"You can't give up now." 

"I'm not giving up." She swallowed with difficulty as she spoke. "I'm letting go." 

* * *

_"Jean, I'm not afraid to go. I'm just afraid to leave the girls with no one to take care of them." _

_"Sarah, you're talking silly. What do you think they've been doing all this time? These girls can take care of themselves." _

_Sarah was brimming with pride. "They're brilliant, aren't they?" _

Joey wrapped her arms around herself as she shivered from the breeze that had blown by where she was standing on the porch. 

Bessie came up behind her and put a coat around her shoulders. Hugging Joey close to her, she whispered, "I know." Her grip instinctively tightened. "I know." 

* * *

Pacey closed his book and walked to the window. Staring out into the listless night, he racked his hair with his fingers in frustration. Joey didn't make it to school again, he thought. Time's running out. 

He heard the phone ringing and then his mother's voice. 

He waited in anticipation for good news. 

Within seconds, she was at his door. 

"Honey, Dawson's on the line." 

Those were the last words he wanted to hear. 

* * *

The hallways were buzzing with activity as usual. Neither the staff nor students walking in and out gave a moment's pause to her as she sat outside the principal's office, waiting to be called in by his secretary. 

She watched the clock on the wall and as the hour hand struck eight, the bell for first period promptly went. Teachers and students scurried past her and she quickly tucked her legs inward before someone tripped over them. 

She heard a door slam shut in the background and then it was total silence. She thought about the woes of the rest of the world and wondered how many people were just like her, waiting to see the principal to explain their situation and request a further week of absence with permission. 

She jumped in her seat when the secretary called out from behind her desk. 

"Joey, Mr. Ellis will see you now." 

***** 

Pacey caught sight of her on his way to his next class. "Joey!" 

She waited for him to catch up and flashed him a quick smile. "Hi." She continued her way toward the exit, with him beside her. 

"How are you?" he asked. 

Joey let out a brief laugh. "I just spent the last hour trying to convince Mr. Ellis that I'm fine and I have everything under control." 

He stopped her with his hand on her arm. "You haven't answered my question," he said quietly. 

"Pacey, there's really _nothing_ to say," she stressed. "My mother's the one dying of cancer and she's the one in pain. It doesn't matter how _I_ feel." 

She turned to go but he stopped her in her tracks again with his next words. 

"I know you have Bessie and Dawson. But if there's anything I can do..." 

"Thank you," she said. And then she exited the building and left him watching the door swing back from the impact of her forceful push. 

* * *

She felt as if all the air had been knocked out of her as an excruciating pain shot through her body. She gasped and groaned in reaction. She sobbed and cursed beneath her breath. She doubled over as the pain got worse. 

Joey, who had just come in the door, hurried to the makeshift bedroom they had made out of the small dining room as she heard the noise. "Oh my god!" she exclaimed, throwing her bag aside. "Mom! What's wrong?" 

Tears were streaming down her face as she cried out. "I can't stand this!" 

"Bessie!" Joey screamed. "Where the hell are you!" Then she realized that Bessie must have just left for her own appointment as she had promised to be back from the principal's by half past nine to take over. It was a quarter to ten. 

Sarah groaned again. 

"Mom, you have to let go of my hand. I am going to get you your medicine." She spoke in the calmest voice she could manage under the circumstances when all she wanted to do was break down and cry. "Mom, the medicine will help." 

Sarah loosened her grip on her daughter. Joey took the opportunity to hurry into the kitchen and grabbed a bottle off the counter top. Her hands were shaking as she poured some water into a glass. 

Rushing back to her mother's side, she turned the latter over and tried to sit her up against her body. She slipped two pills into Sarah's mouth and gingerly tipped the glass to her lips. 

Joey continued to hold her until the pain appeared to have subsided and drowsiness took over. She carefully laid her mother back on the bed and wiped the sweat off her brow. 

Walking back into the kitchen with the bottle and a half-empty glass in her hands, she put them down before sliding into a sitting position in a corner, where she finally allowed herself to cry. 

When she was done, she prayed for only the second time she could remember in her entire life. 

* * *

The day dragged on endlessly. When the last bell went, to signal that school was out, Pacey found himself too worn out to even celebrate. The sight that greeted him as he walked out the school gates, however, cheered him up instantly. 

He ran to where the police patrol car was parked. 

"Uncle Dan, please tell me it's good news!" 

"He's staying in a motel, 45 minutes from here." 

" I have to let Joey know." 

"Pacey-" 

"She has to know." 

Pacey was too caught up in the news to pay any attention to the worried look on Dan's face. 

"Can you give me a ride to Joey's?" 

Dan hesitated but was eventually swayed by the boy's excitement. "I can take you over to Joey's but you have to promise that you two won't go anywhere until I get off from work and take you there myself." 

"Let's go, Uncle Dan." 

He held Pacey by the shoulder. "No, Pacey. Promise me first." 

He was caught off-guard by the man's serious tone but was too impatient to question him about it. "I promise, sir. Please, can we go now?" 

***** 

"Joey!" he called out from the porch and hurried into the house, where he lowered his voice. "Joey," he said, just as urgently. He found her and Bessie sitting in the kitchen. 

He paused to catch his breath. "I'm sorry I didn't knock but this is important." Looking from Joey to Bessie and back again, he realized that he must have interrupted a rather serious conversation but he couldn't hold his news back. 

"We found your father." 

"What?" they chorused in unison. 

"How did you do that?" Bessie demanded. 

Pacey explained in a flurry of words as he watched their expressions change from incredulous to solemn. 

"She didn't want me to say anything." 

There was silence as the three of them tried to digest what they had learned. Bessie was the first to speak. 

"Pacey, we need a favor." 

He nodded. 

"Could you go with Joey to look for him?" 

"Well-" He didn't finish his sentence as he noted the hope in Bessie's eyes. "Yes, I could." 

Joey who hadn't said a word for awhile, shook her head. "No, Bessie. I won't know what to say to him." 

"Joey, you _have_ to go." 

"I will stay here with Mom." 

"You've gone through enough for today. I will stay here with Mom." She stood up to look at the bus schedule pasted on the refrigerator. "The bus leaves in 20 minutes, you have to hurry." 

Joey didn't move from her position. 

"Joey, please," her sister pleaded. 

That was enough to get her moving up the stairs for her sweater and some money. 

Bessie took hold of both Pacey's hands. "Please take care of her for me." 

"I will," he promised. 

* * *

"Are you certain it's this room?" 

He rapped a couple more times on the door. "The guy said Room 24. This is Room 24." 

"Well, he's obviously not in. We should go." She started to walk away. 

"Whoa, wait a second," he said, making a grab for her arm. "What's going on here? You haven't said more than two words to me since we left your house." 

"Let go, Pacey." 

"I'm just trying to help. I'm sorry if you think I'm being-" 

She wriggled free from his grasp. "I appreciate your help." She lifted her chin defiantly. "But don't you ever keep anything like that from me again." 

Pacey stood, stunned and then shook his head to clear his head before quickening his step to catch up with her. 

"What do we do now?" he asked. 

"We go home." 

"We can't just give up!" 

She stopped to face him. "What do you suggest we do then, Pacey? My mother has little time left and I'm not going to waste any more looking for a man who left us when we needed him the most!" 

"Joey, he's your father. Give him a chance." 

"And who's giving my mother a chance?" 

To her great consternation, she felt tears welling in her eyes. She had always been careful not to let anyone see her cry throughout this whole ordeal but after what happened today, it was hard not to be knocked off her feet. 

Pacey could see she was clearly distressed by her display of emotion. Trying to ease her anxiety, he put his arm around her, half-expecting her to coil from his touch but when she didn't resist, he tightened his grip slightly. Though surprised, he managed to keep his tone neutral. "All right, let's go home." 

They had been walking down the road from the motel for about 10 minutes when they came upon bright neon lights. 

"Should we? This is the nearest bar from the motel. I say, there's a possibility he's having a drink in there." 

When Joey didn't offer a further opinion, he took a step toward the entrance. 

"W-wait!" 

He turned around, waiting for her to finish what she had to say. 

"You're not just going in like that!" 

He gave her a look. "Should I be wearing a hat?" 

"This place just looks so sleazy." She made a face. "Are we old enough to enter?" 

Pacey raised his hands in exasperation. "Who cares? I'm not drinking anything. Are you coming with me or not?" 

"What if he's really in there?" Her voice drifted off as she contemplated the possibility. Pacey began to see that she was scared stiff of confronting her father again in so long a time. 

In a softer voice, he said, " Joey, let's not get ahead of ourselves. We'll just take a look. He might not even be in there." He moved toward her. "Do you want me to go in first?" 

She shook her head. "I'll go with you." 

Pacey reached out a hand and she returned the gesture. He held her clammy hand securely in his as he pushed the door open, only to be immediately greeted by a cloud of cigarette smoke and music playing loudly from the jukebox. 

As expected, heads turned to stare as they made their way to the bar. Intimidated, Joey moved closer to Pacey. 

The bartender raised a brow when he caught sight of the two at his counter. "You're tall, son but you sure ain't no 21-year-old." 

"I don't want a drink." 

"That's a relief." 

"We're looking for someone, a Mike Potter." 

His attention was diverted for a second as someone yelled for an order of beer. "Sorry," he replied. "Don't know no Potter." Seeing the disappointed look on the boy's face, he added, "But I'm new around here. You could try looking in the back." 

"Thanks." 

They squeezed through more crowds of people until they got to the back of the fairly large bar. 

"Do you see him? Joey asked, tugging at his sleeve. 

"No, do you?" 

"I can't really see with all this smoke." She coughed and wiped her eyes as they began to tear. And then as if by magic, the cloud cleared and the mass of people in front of her left their seats, leaving her with a perfect view of the table behind theirs. 

She stood there, transfixed. 

He had been looking in another direction when he noticed Joey staring. "What are y-" he stopped in mid-sentence when he was greeted with the same view. 

They found him, all right. Mike Potter was seated at a table, drinking his beer. But he wasn't alone. He had his hands all over a blonde woman, who was wearing a tight shirt with the words "Larry's Place" emblazoned across her huge chest. 

Pacey shut his eyes for a second as he let the feelings of dread wash over him. It was just like waiting for a time bomb to go off, watching Joey. 

She was still staring. 

He was about to suggest they leave when she turned around and started running back the direction they came. 

"Joey," he called out as he tried not to lose sight of her. "Joey, wait!" 

He was hit by a blast of cleaner air and dust as he made it out into the open. 

She was standing, with her back facing him. As he approached her, she spoke in a shaky but determined voice. "My Mom never hears a word of this." 

"I agree," he replied. It was clear that she had shut herself off once more and would not appreciate sympathy of any sort. 

Any acknowledgment that she had heard him was in the form of a small nod before she continued on her way, with him keeping a slight distance behind her. 

* * *

"I told you kids to stay away!" 

Pacey cringed at the reprimand in Dan's voice as he tried to explain himself. "Her sister looked so hopeful. I couldn't say no." 

"Pacey, I don't think you realize just how serious this is." Dan calmed down enough to sit down. "Mike Potter is no ordinary citizen of Capeside." 

"What do you mean?" 

"Joey's father is a suspect in a narcotics case. He's under surveillance from the NYPD, that's how I found him in the first place." 

His jaw dropped. "You're kidding, right?" 

"He's just a pawn in this game. They want his supplier and they're hoping he'll lead them to him." 

Pacey had his hands over his face as he mumbled, "Oh my god, what have I done?" 

"It's not your fault. I'm just glad both of you came out of it okay." 

"First, she finds out he's cheating on her mother. Now she hears he's a drug dealer. Argh!" He laid his forehead against the wood and hit the desk once with his fist. "If I had minded my own business, we wouldn't need to know all this right now." 

Dan cleared his throat noisily. Pacey looked up in response. 

"It's much worse, isn't it?" 

"Potter is scheduled to make an exchange this week-end. If all goes as expected, they might give him immunity if he gives up the name of his boss." 

"But if he doesn't..." 

"He goes to jail." 

* * *

Joey sat in a chair by the bed, just waiting. She wasn't sure about what she was waiting for but something told her the time had almost come. 

Her mother was talking in her sleep again. She reached over to wrap the blanket more securely around her. 

Leaning back, she surveyed the latter's face as she tried to remember what her mother had looked like before. It seemed so long ago when Sarah Potter was a happy and healthy woman. 

Dawson came into the room just then and their eyes met. His were filled with understanding as he came over and sat himself beside her. Silently, he took her hand and held on to it. 

_"Mike isn't coming, is he?" _

_"I'm sorry, Sarah." _

_"You know, my parents never did approve of him. My father and I had a big argument before I ran away and married him." _

_"He doesn't blame you for it." _

_"How could he not?" _

_"Trust me, Sarah. He and your mother are waiting for you to come home. _

_"Jean, is it time to go?" _

_"Only when you're ready." _

_"I'm ready now. Will you take me there?" _

_"It will be my pleasure, dear." _

Bessie awoke with a start at 5 am the next morning. Her stomach in knots, she made her way downstairs. As she stood by the doorway of the room, she saw Joey, still sitting in the chair. When the latter heard her sister, she looked up. Bessie choked back a sob when she met her gaze. 

* * *

Dan Marino was flipping through the newspaper while eating his breakfast. Normally, he would have bypassed the death notices but a name caught his eye: 

**DEATH NOTICES**

**Potter, Sarah Josephine**, died peacefully May 26, 1996, aged 36, after a long illness. Funeral service at Capeside Cemetery, on 30th May 1996 at 1.45 pm. The family requests that all flowers and donations be sent to the Breast Cancer Society, 72 Kingsway, Capeside. 

He remembered that today would be the day the trap was set for Mike Potter. He pushed his toast aside as he gradually lost his appetite. 

* * *

**_End of The Long Ago... Series_**

_To be continued in the next series, entitled **This Is When It All Began**  
Please send all comments and suggestions to: pacey@hockeymail.com_


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